Shooting pains

M – We finally ventured out into the cold yesterday, but only because we had a doctor’s appointment scheduled. That reminds me – we have another this afternoon. Sure hope it warms up. According to the doctor and her percentile graph which projects how she should be doing if she is ‘normal’ (i.e. that we are not starving her, creating a less than the 50th percentile growth rate). She is back up to the ‘right’ weight for her age. In addition, her head is in the 75th percentile (which gave D a reason to blame me for her painful delivery and recovery :p) and her length is in the 75th to 90th percentile range. Oh, how we (as a society) love and need our numbers to gauge self-worth, health, and just about everything else that can be measured. IQ, age, height, money, the list goes on. Waiting in line, want to know how much longer it will be before being served, as if that will speed up the process. Waking up (even on the weekend) we look at the clock to check the time. Granted, there is no escaping numbers nor do I even contest the need for them, just that it is nice sometimes to spend a little time relaxing and letting those numbers slide right by. That is definitely something our baby bubble has done for us. Sometimes it is even hard to remember what day it is, as nights and days blend together. We still keep track of time, but that is mainly to make sure Mango is being feed and that her sleeping patterns are not too askew.

I have little to complain about though, as witnessed by the minor monologue I had about numbers, especially as used to compare, calculate, and define one’s value in society. If this is the best I can do and the worst I have to worry about, life is definitely good.

My thoughtful look

Just to go back to the appointment, Mango had to have two shots (hence the title). She arrived there all cheerful and sunny, but one needle in each thigh had her crying inconsolably (for about 30 seconds).She managed to peel one bandage off before we had time even to put her sleeper back on (no harm was done and a replacement bandage was quickly used to cover the needle hole). While waiting for the car to be driven to the main doors, we were approached by someone cooing over her cuteness and overflowing with questions and comments about her (age, hair, smile, etc.) This was even after we had left the office, so I guess she is just a babe magnet.